


“You don’t have to pretend with me”

by Onehelluvapilot



Series: Tumblr prompt fics [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Male-Female Friendship, Past Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Post-Episode: s03e12-13 The Coming of Arthur, no beta we die like women, supportive Lancelot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onehelluvapilot/pseuds/Onehelluvapilot
Relationships: Gwen & Lancelot (Merlin)
Series: Tumblr prompt fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922554
Kudos: 14





	“You don’t have to pretend with me”

“Hey, are you alright?” a voice asked softly from behind Gwen. She whipped around quickly to see who it was, terrified of being snuck up on after everything that had happened in the past few days. When she saw that it was just Lancelot, she sighed in relief. His arm was still in a sling from the wound he’d taken during the battle, but though it must’ve hurt, his eyes were full of concern for her instead. She quickly dried her tears on the edge of her sleeve.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, supressing a sniffle. He looked unconvinced, and took a step towards her, reaching out his hand that wasn’t in a sling. She took it, and squeezed gently.

“It’s alright if you’re not,” he said. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” His gentle reassurance was all it took to break down her hastily-constructed floodgates, and she let him pull her into a hug as her sobs started back up again. She was careful not to bump his injured arm and to hold onto his waist instead of cling to his shoulders, and he pressed his hand firmly against her back to hold her as well as he could with just one hand. His fingertips reached the base of her neck and his thumb stroked over her right shoulderblade comfortingly. Realizing that he’d left the door open, which she had done as well, Gwen tried to cry quietly so as not to attract attention.

“Are these your chambers?” he asked gently, and she could feel his head move to look around. He was probably trying to get a sense of why she was crying, when everything should have been fine. They had won, after all. Morgana, the evil sorceress, was defeated.

“No,” she said, voice muffled by his chest. “They’re Morgana’s.”

“Ah,” he just replied, and squeezed her a little tighter.

“I know she turned out to be evil,” she tried to explain. “But she was good once. She was kind and fought for what was right, even when Uther punished her for it. She was a good mistress and I- I-” She broke off, unsure of how Lancelot would react to the words.

“You loved her?” he guessed, with so much kindness in his voice that she knew she needn’t have worried. She nodded, nose pressing into his shirt. The last time she had hugged him, there had been several layers of chainmail and armor padding between them. He was softer without it, though not by much since he was so fit, and warmer. “I met her just once, at the feast when I was knighted for the first time, but she did seem as you say. It is not wrong to grieve for losing her.”

Gwen could only nod as her throat swelled with emotion. Lancelot moved his arm up, so his calloused hand cradled the back of her head and his elbow remained sitting between her shoulder blades. He simply held her until, after many minutes, she pulled back a little and he released her.

“Do you want me to help you pack up the rest of her room?” he offered. She looked around at the half-filled boxes, then back at his sling.

“You shouldn’t,” she protested. He opened his mouth, likely to argue that he was fine, and she quickly cut him off. “I’d like it, though, if you would stay and keep me company?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he agreed.


End file.
